Vacation
by Workaholic Praxian
Summary: There are good reasons why some shouldn't go on a vacation, especially in the middle of a war, but it's only for one week. What could possibly go wrong?


**Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers**

Vacation

* * *

Prowl braced himself for the worst.

"I don't care what frag your excuse is this time. You're taking a vacation!" Ratchet yelled loud enough for the inhabitants of the medbay and a good portion of those in the hallway to hear, "And you're not going to hide in your room and claim you're taking a break while you're secretly doing work!"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Prowl calmly stated, "I was taking a break from dealing with the twins."

"Do you know what you are?" Ratchet questioned.

"A tactician and the second in command of the Autobots." Prowl paused, a worried look on his faceplate, "We've been through this before. Perhaps you should allow First Aid to give you a checkup."

Ratchet huffed, "Prowl. You're a workaholic."

"Of course I am. How do you expect me to complete all of my work on time if I wasn't?"

Ratchet rubbed his faceplate tiredly, "Look, you haven't taken a proper vacation since the war started. Even I have taken a vacation off base since the war started, not to mention I _enjoy_ my days off. You treat your days off as if they don't exist. This isn't good for your health."

Red Alert carefully tried sneaking out of the medbay only to be pinned by a dark look from Ratchet.

"Red Alert, don't you fragging dare! You're just as bad as Prowl."

Red Alert squeaked, "But Ratchet, the security system needs constant surveillance to make sure that no one tries messing with it that way the twenty seven levels of back up security measures can be systematically put into place!"

"Red Alert, no one's messing with the security system." Ratchet grumbled.

"You don't know that!" Red Alert declared.

Prowl smirked ever so slightly, "Jazz currently is."

"I told you!" Red Alert declared, just itching to run back to the security room.

Ratchet crossed his arms, "How do you know that?"

"I just got a comm from Jazz informing me that he's watching us." Prowl pointed to the hidden camera in the corner of the room.

Ratchet narrowed his optics at the sight, "Red Alert, I told you no cameras in _my_ medbay."

"I'll take it out." Red Alert muttered with a pout.

"I've already talked to Optimus and he agrees that the two of you need a week-long vacation at Paradise."

Red Alert grinned as he did his best not to jump up and down in excitement, "The planet of spas, beaches and femmes?! I've always wanted to go there!"

Prowl raised an optic bridge, "What's the catch?"

"No working, relax and you better enjoy your vacation." Ratchet answered, "The two of you depart tomorrow morning."

* * *

It was early in the morning when the Autobots crowded around the transport for Red Alert and Prowl. Some wished to say goodbye and wish them the best of luck while others refused to believe that the two resident workaholics agreed to _actually_ take a vacation unless they saw it with their own optics.

Prowl was the first to show up, doorwings rigid with what some would later categorize as a smile on his faceplate as he carried a pile of datapads.

"Prowler, you know you're not supposed to bring work with you." Jazz pointed out as soon as the praxian got close enough.

"I know. These are for you." He handed two datapads to Jazz.

"What?!" Jazz squeaked, "You know me, I don't like datapads."

Prowl ignored him and handed two to Ratchet and the other two to Optimus.

"What are these for?" Ratchet questioned, fiddling around with the items.

"One is a list of things to do and not to do. The other is 'How to Run an Army… for Dummies.'" Prowl answered with a smug look.

Red Alert came running outside with his own stack of datapads. "Sorry I was late. I was making a few last minute changes."

"You're early." Prowl assured him, "You see, we made these last night with the hope that the base will still be running when we get back."

Red Alert passed out the datapads to Optimus, Ratchet and Jazz. "One is a list of emergency contacts and the other is 'How to Be a Security Officer for Dummies.'"

Wheeljack's helm fins flashed in amusement, "It's only going to be for a week, what's the worst that can happen?"

Wheeljack was suddenly the target of dirty looks as Prowl and Red Alert entered the transport. Ratchet smacked Wheeljack with a wrench, "You just had to be the one to say it."

"What?!" Wheeljack yelped as he rubbed his helm soothingly, "It's not like they're going to be gone for a month."

"Do you always like playing with fire?" Jazz questioned as he handed Wheeljack his datapads.

"Are these for me?" Wheeljack questioned as he examined the first one.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. I don't want them." Jazz replied as he headed to the Rec Room, "We don't need three copies of everything anyway. Optimus will read them, he always does."

* * *

Prowl laid upon his front on a beach towel, angling his doorwings to follow the sunlight, just as sunflowers back on Earth did as he sunbathed. "We just got here and I'm already relaxing more than I have since before my days in the enforcer academy."

"I like it here. We should have come here earlier." Red Alert stated as he brought another bucket full of sand to his rapidly growing, elaborate sand castle.

"Indeed. Our host mentioned something about a themed dinner later on." Prowl muttered, "They have a long list of activities we can look through. I heard a handful of femmes have medical training and give excellent massages."

"Really? It's like they have femmes specialized in everything that could be thought of for a perfect vacation!"

"That's what it says in their brochure."

"Will the Decepticons come here or is this Autobot territory?"

"Paradise is in neutral territory and an understanding exists between both factions that no matter what, this place shall be untouched by war. Autobots and Decepticons can come here as so long as they put their differences behind them and behave."

The two continued in silence before Red Alert squeaked, "Prowl, help me! The tide's coming in and an entire side of the castle is exposed!"

"You shouldn't have built it so close to the waves." Prowl chuckled as he got up to help.

* * *

"Hey, Smoky." Jazz sat down with the group playing cards, "How's the new workload coming along?"

"What are you talking about?" Smokescreen questioned as he put down his next card, "I've been getting the usual datapads sent to my desk in the tactical division. The same is true for Trailbreaker."

Jazz opened his cube of high grade, "It's just, with Prowl gone, someone's gotta pick up the slack and it's not going to be me. You're his second in command in the tactical division."

"But you're the third in command of the Autobots." Smokescreen pointed out, "If I'm getting his tactical work, you're getting all of the other work which is at least half of what he deals with."

"No, no. It's not a big deal. He doesn't have much anyway." Jazz paused, "Though we could always get Trailbreaker to take a look at it in a few days."

"Sounds like a plan." Smokescreen gathered up all of the cards, "Do you want to join us?"

"Sure. It's not like I have anything important going on."

* * *

Inferno was dozing off when one of the monitor alarms went off. Wiping away a line of drool, he quickly examined all of the screens and saw nothing out of the ordinary, so he turned it off.

Just as he was falling back into a slightly uncomfortable recharge, a blur darted out of the medbay, carrying a stack of datapads of which the intruder thought were of higher value than they actually were.

* * *

Red Alert and Prowl lounged in comfortable chairs on a deck as they sipped on vintage high grade while colorful, attractive femmes used elaborate, carefully crafted fans to keep them cool as the sun started to set.

"Do you think they're doing alright without us?" Red Alert questioned as he took a few image captures of the sunset to show the others when they returned.

Prowl held his glass out for someone to refill, "They have the datapads we left them and as so long as they follow our guidelines, they'll be fine."

Red Alert frowned, "But what if we made them too complicated?"

"We made them as simple as we could." Prowl paused, "If they can't understand our directions, then they shouldn't be leading the Autobots."

"I'm just worried that they haven't read them."

"If they feel the need, they'll use them for reference. Besides, this isn't about _them_, it's about _us_ being able to _finally_ relax."

* * *

"TWINS!" Ratchet screamed as the two slid out of the medbay with the usage of slime they had just finished coating the floor and the hallways with.

First Aid fell to his aft as he attempted to get to Ratchet and then slid into one of the berths with a loud clang.

"Aid, are you alright?" Ratchet questioned as he carefully made his way to his assistant, all thoughts of hunting down the twins gone.

First Aid used the berth to get up, only to slip as he took his first step, "I'm alright. It's just a few dents." First Aid looked up at Ratchet as he fell to the ground yet again, "Aren't they supposed to be in the brig for the last prank?"

"Yes." Ratchet answered, "Prowl should have gotten them by now."

"Sir, Prowl's not here."

"I'll get Jazz to catch them." Ratchet grumbled, helping First Aid to his feet.

First Aid looked at Ratchet, a genuine look of concern upon his normally masked face, "But Ratchet, Jazz is pranking everyone as well."

Ratchet rubbed his chevron, "Frag. I don't want to get Optimus involved."

"He already is." First Aid muttered weakly, "His aft is glued to his desk chair and he wanted help, remember?"

"We should help him first." Ratchet offered First Aid his hand as his assistant slipped, but managed not to fall that time, "Then we'll clean the medbay."

"What do the datapads say to do?" First Aid questioned as the two started heading out of the medbay, "Surely Prowl has something to say about what's going on and if not, we could always call him."

"Wait here." Ratchet inched his way back to his office, "I'll be right back."

After Ratchet made the long and perilous journey without slipping whatsoever, he came out, a dark look on his face, "If the twins ran off with the datapads as a joke…"

"They'd never take datapads." First Aid pointed out, "They know where the lines are and stealing official documents is one of those things they promised they'd never do. We might have a spy running around."

"I doubt it." Ratchet huffed, "The alarms would have gone off by now."

* * *

Soundwave presented his findings to Megatron. It had taken a lot of sneaking around to get them out, but it was much easier than in normal circumstances.

Megatron narrowed his optics at the title of the first datapad, "Running an Army for Dummies? Soundwave, what is the meaning of this?! Do you think I'm incompetent?"

"No." Soundwave quickly replied, "These datapads were on Ratchet's desk."

He looked around at the other datapads, only to give them back to Soundwave, "We can't use these. Get rid of them."

Soundwave left the room with his stolen items as he looked through the first one. As much he didn't like the titles, the information was intriguing and useful. It appeared that the Autobots functioned similar to the Decepticons. He set them down on his night stand and wandered to the washracks.

Deep in thought, Soundwave forgot to lock the door, even though his cassettes were in the room.

* * *

Scavenger noticed when Soundwave left and having always wondered what it was like in Soundwave's room, he took the opportunity to slip inside, undetected by both the rest of the Constructicons and by the resting inhabitants. Upon seeing a neat stack of shiny, new datapads, he couldn't resist grabbing them before fleeing back to his group before they missed him.

Later on, Scavenger was going to add today's findings to the rest of his hidden stash of stuff that way Scrapper didn't throw it out with the garbage like he did last time.

* * *

Prowl and Red Alert had been gone for three days when Trailbreaker bravely entered Prowl's office. He would have done so sooner, but he had been helping the others in catching the twins and all of those who were involved in the prank wars, not to mention cleaning up the messes. Jazz had proven to be impossible to catch and so they had to give up, though Mirage was secretly stalking his commander, waiting for the perfect opportunity to catch Jazz unaware.

It was beyond chaotic in the base.

Trailbreaker bravely entered the office and made the mistake of touching the massive pile of datapads.

The next individual to enter the room was Hound and that was because the tracker got a comm from Trailbreaker requesting assistance however that was hours after Trailbreaker disappeared and so the datapads continued to multiply in the meantime.

Both Hound and Trailbreaker hadn't been seen or heard from since.

* * *

Prowl and Red Alert stood before the computer as they awaited for someone at the base to pick up. With every passing minute, their worries grew until Optimus hastily answered. "I hope you're enjoying yourselves."

"We're having a great time!" Red Alert answered as Prowl carefully examined the screen's display, "They picked a perfect name for this place. You should come one of these days and see it for yourself. I've been taking pictures that I'll show you when we get back."

"Jazz! Get back here!" Ratchet yelled as the two ran across the screen in the background.

"Is something wrong?" Prowl questioned as he continued to focus on the surroundings.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Optimus quickly answered. "I'm glad the two of you are relaxing. I can't wait to see the pictures and hear of your vacation."

Prowl frowned upon seeing chemicals in the next to each other in which he had specifically written that weren't even supposed to be in the same room.

Wheeljack's head poked into view as his helm fins flashed in delight, "Is it true that they serve energon in every color of the rainbow?"

"Yes." Red Alert grinned, "And they even managed to process it so that it's frozen when you first get it, but it melts in your mouth."

A fire started up when Jazz kicked the containers of the chemicals over, allowing the two to mix.

"Optimus, is that a fire?" Prowl hesitantly questioned.

"Fire? What fire?" Optimus glanced around and upon seeing the fire, he turned back to the screen, "I don't see any fire. We must be having a poor connection."

"Then why is the fire alarm going off?" Red Alert pointed out.

Optimus gulped, "It's a planned fire intended on testing the fire system. I assure you, there's nothing to be worried about. Keep enjoying yourselves and we'll see you in another three days."

Optimus quickly closed the connection before matters got any worse. As much as he didn't like lying, the two deserved an uninterrupted vacation without any worries.

Inferno and Hotspot were putting the fire out when he realized with great dread that the datapads he had gotten from Red Alert and Prowl had gotten burned and would no longer function.

* * *

"Do not have any parties on Wednesdays." Wheeljack read as he fiddled around with a project.

Ratchet scowled, "Then we shouldn't have had that party yesterday. No one, with you as the exception, wants to work today. There are too many hangovers."

"How'd you get rid of yours?" Wheeljack raised an optic bridge in curiosity.

"It's a medical trick." Ratchet paused, "I _might_ show you one of these days."

"Give Jazz a task that will cause him to have to leave the base for at least an hour, no matter how small and insignificant it might be." Wheeljack read, "It will curb his excess energy and boredom so that he doesn't do things such as prank the Autobots."

"Jazz was captured yesterday, but escaped from the brig about ten minutes ago after he got bored of talking with the twins." Ratchet grumbled.

"Hey, this one is about me!" Wheeljack's helm fins flashed merrily as he read it, "Don't allow Wheeljack to have important documents in his lab while working without copies being located elsewhere."

"It says that?" Ratchet got up to read it himself, "Primus, Prowl knows us better than we thought."

Wheeljack froze, "Are these the last copies?"

"Mine disappeared and Optimus's burned." Ratchet narrowed his optics, "Why do you have these?"

Wheeljack flailed, "Jazz gave them to me!"

BOOM

"'JACK!"

"Oh… My bad!" Wheeljack apologized as he picked up the datapad he had been reading with a soot covered hand. It snapped in half while the others were in pieces, scattered about the lab.

Ratchet wasn't amused.

* * *

It was Friday when the Decepticons decided to attack.

They were greeted with curses and glares, some snarled and others who weren't known to be an active participant in battles appeared at the front lines, aiming for the faces of their enemies and the wings of the fliers.

That battle would later have the undefeated record of the shortest battle in the entire duration of the war, one where the Decepticons ran for their lives while enraged Autobots chased after them before slinking back to the messy, unorganized mess that their base had become.

* * *

Saturday was the day that everyone had been waiting for.

The day in which the saviors were to come back home from their vacation.

It was, but four hours before they were to come back when it was discovered that troops were missing. It took another hour to discover where they were stuck. With the assistance of half of the inhabitants of the base, the minibots located on Earth were hauled out of the steep piles of built up reports and complaints.

Yet still no Trailbreaker or Hound.

Minutes before their scheduled arrival, Hoist pulled the last missing Autobots from the unforgiving room and as a whole, the Autobots managed to assemble at the correct location to meet Red Alert and Prowl who came out of the transport with matching pictures of them with the femmes. An imprint of a kiss and a message adorned each as the two smiled before realizing just how much work awaited them.


End file.
